Winter is Coming
by LyzetaStories7
Summary: Lyanna Stark, daughter of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, is quite a girl to handle: she loves playing at swords with her brothers but as much as she refuses to act lady-like, the future events to come will affect her life beyond recognition. Winter is coming and with it, terrible things. When playing the Game of Thrones, will Lyanna be able to survive?
1. Lyanna

**Chapter I**

 _Winter is coming._ That's what our Lord Father told us lately every time he was saying something solemn. Sometimes we replied that we northerners were used to extreme cold. In reply he just laughed to himself and smiled at us. Of course we didn't know winter then, but it would still be long until we really knew its meaning.

Brandon was just an infant at the time, Arya was too little and Sansa too worried about behaving as a lady would behave. So if I wanted to play swords, I could only really do that with my twin brother Robb or my bastard brother Jon Snow, who despite not being a trueborn, I fondly loved. I never called him "Snow". I could see how he wrinkled his nose in annoyance when someone did. For me he was blood of my blood as any other Stark. And well, there was this other lad, a thirteen-year-old, Theon of House Greyjoy who didn't mind hitting me at all while playing. The others, stableboys mostly, were too afraid because they thought I would go crying to my parents.

Today was one of those days in which the weather allowed us to play on the yard without the thinnest hint of snow. I was particularly thrilled today although I had no particular reason. My auburn hair was tied up in a long ponytail and to Septa Mordane and my Mother's misfortune, I was wearing some of Robb's clothes. "Ready for being defeated, sister?"-Robb said when I appeared on the yard. "We will win this thing today, won't we, Jon?"

The teams had been long stablished. Robb and Theon against Jon and I. These two couples worked brilliant so it didn't occur to us changing them whatsoever. "We'll see"-Greyjoy smirked at us. He was too vain, too proud of himself. Always wearing that kraken of his in the breastplate or, as it was the case, sewn to his shirt.

"3, 2, 1…"-I started the countdown, eager to start the fight.

"Fight!"-Robb shouted.

I went straight to my brother but while fighting we could easily read each other's mind. If I went right, there was Robb to strike back, if he went left I could swiftly avoid his movement. Theon and Jon were another thing. They hated each other. Maybe not truly _hate_ , but you could feel that something had happened between them at some point or well, as I suspected, a non-verbal conflict had emerged between these two from the moment they met. So this loath made their blows hard and almost one-hundred percent accurate in both cases.

Jon and I looked sideways at the same exact moment. I might look as a Tully but I was sure I was mostly a Stark at the heart, cause there was no other person who knew Jon better that I did. We knew what we had to do, so we did it. After avoiding another blow from Robb I went directly to Theon. Greyjoy was so focused on stopping Jon's sword to hit his thigh that he didn't see me coming. At the moment Jon released the pressure, I was already there to strike the very confused, poor lad. Jon had it slightly harder because, although Robb had been shocked by our movement, he had had more time to prepare himself. It didn't matter, though, Jon and I won a few minutes later. I even got to throw Greyjoy to the ground even though he was taller and heftier than I was.

Before I turned around I heard some lads laughing but most of all, our father clapping. He was in the second floor with mother. He looked proud. I smiled back at him and then jumped and embraced Jon from his waist. "We won, little brother, we won!" I kissed him on his forehead and stretch out a hand to help Theon stand up. He of course, refused any help.

"I don't need a girl to help me stand up".

"Don´t be that stupidily proud"-I responded.

"Are you sure that word exists, Stark?"-he asked in reply, on his feet now and looking right at my eyes.

"Oh, shut up!"

I turned around again. Father was going to say something but mother interrupted him even before any word could reach his lips: "Lyanna, you should be practicing your stitches with your sisters, Septa Mordane has noticed your absence." She was very serious about this, she didn't want to hear any "no" or "but". I complained anyway.

"But Mother, I'm very good at sewing already, I've made those things a hundred times. I need practice with the _sword_!" Of course she wasn't going to leave me alone until I did what she commanded.

"And for what reason does a girl need to play with swords? You'll never go to war, sweetheart." Mother started to enrage me. Why on seven hells could that mean I could not practice? I loved it!

"Dornish women are treated equal to their men. I bet they don't have to justify why they prefer practicing with swords instead of stitching day and night stupid shirts for children and men!" I was out of my mind. All the yard was dead silent. Catelyn Stark neé Tully was a woman to fear. We were looking directly at each other's blue eyes, cold as ice. Of course she wasn't going to let me have the last word.

"I'm afraid you're no Dornish woman. You're a girl and you have to do what you're told. And stop acting childish or you will give your younger siblings a bad example." I bite my lip, on the edge of crying. But we were still looking at each other and I wouldn't give her that pleasure.

"Yes, you're right. I'm no Dornish woman. I'm a Stark of Winterfell and the damn _Winter is coming_ ". I threw the wooden sword to the ground and went straight to the staircase to do my stitching work.


	2. The Hunting Trip

**Chapter II**

I received dinner at my bedchamber. I wasn't allowed to exit it in a week unless I was ordered to do it.

"Thank you," I muttered to the servant who entered the room. He made a half-smile like all the others who brought me food. Apparently, all pitied me. They say that the ones from the Iron Islands are ironborns. My Mother was a Tully but sometimes she seemed truly made of iron.

I was starting to chew the stew when Robb entered the room. It was my third day locked up on my own bedroom alone. I was glad it was him. "How are you, sister?"

"How do you think, brother? Bored. Pretty bored." We both insinuated a shy hint of a smile and nodded. "You know how mother is. I'm impressed you talked to her that way."

"It's not fair the boys get all the fun!"

"It wasn't fair for Greyjoy either", he laughed. "Everyone was picking on him afterwards". Robb was not trying to be mean, but he was. Everyone laughed at him cause it was a _girl_ the one who beat him. No one would have said anything if it was Jon. I just nodded.

During the mornings I entertained myself watching the boys playing on the yard from my window. Later, for lunch and dinner I usually got one or two visits from my siblings. I was surprised even Sansa turned up sometimes since I knew for a matter of fact that mother would not let anyone in. Apparently, everyone pitied me enough to deceive my lady Mother.

On the last day of my confinement, father come to see me. I was on my windowsill watching how Ser Rodrik trained the boys.

"Tomorrow you'll be free again". I turned around, slightly surprised.

"Yes, I'll be free to do what mother commands." I was looking again through the window. Father sat at the edge of my bed. He was thinking about what to say. He was a good lord and in a way, a good father, but when it came to talking about feelings, that was a tough moment. I tried to ease that for him. "I know Mother only wants me to behave and act as a lady so one day, when I get married, I can be a good wife and mother. But no one has asked me about it. What if I don't want to? I don't see her so eager about getting Robb married." He had a deep breath and then he started talking.

"You are only 10, sweetheart. I promise you there will be no talking about it for a while." He got up, came closer and put his hand on my cheek. "And you can still practice with the sword and your bow and arrows. You are pretty good." It didn't solve anything really. But it was better than nothing.

Next morning I was the first to appear in the yard, so I decided to take my bow and arrows. I always shot straight to the bullseye but of course the target didn't move and neither Mother nor Father would let me go and practice in the woods. So there I was. Practicing for nothing. I was going to shoot another arrow when a whispering sound reached my ear and seconds later, an arrow that wasn't mine stood right on the bullseye. I turned frightened and with my eyes wide opened to see Theon Greyjoy and his sly smile looking straight at me.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? THAT COULD HAVE KILLED ME!" His look stayed the same, he even got to laugh.

"I knew what I was doing, _my lady_." He even bowed. He never talked to any of my siblings that way. Maybe if the situation required it, but not when we were alone.

"Stop that mockery, you idiot!" He got near the target and took his arrow. Then he spoke again.

"Do you wanna _truly_ practice, Lyanna?"

"Of course I do, but I can't go out hunting, you know that. Let alone, going out only with you." Apparently it wasn't the first time he exited the castle without my father's permission. He found a secret unguarded spot we could use to exit. It was pretty small for us already. In a couple of years Theon would have to find another way to stretch his legs.

It was good to be in the woods without anyone watching after me. We got to hunt four rabbits and a couple of squirrels. I wasn't as good with living targets, but I wasn't bad either. An hour had passed more or less when I decided we should go back or they'll noticed our absence. "I don't think mine will be missed, though. I'll go later, Stark." Stark. Greyjoy. We called each other by our House name too often. We didn't take it as an insult. Not me at least. He was calmly laid down near the little lake so I decided that the time of asking questions had come.

"Theon", I began, just to call for his attention. He raised his head and his eyebrows, surprised I was still there. I laid down just next to him. When I talked again I was looking to the sky through the leaves of the trees above. "Why are you always wearing that kraken?"

"That's quite a stupid question. The kraken is the sigil of my House, known-it-all". He smirked as always, as if he knew everything in this world. I turned to look at him.

"Oh, I know. But everyone here knows who you are. You're trying to make it a statement so no one forgets it. But why? We love you like a brother. What matters our House names?" He stopped looking at me and let quite a long pause before he answered: " _Like_ a brother", it's all he said. Theon wasn't gonna say anything else, I was certain of that. "I share a special bond with Jon but I hate seeing how much you loath each other. And I _do_ think you've got more of a Stark than you believe, Theon." I left him to his thoughts and run to Winterfell.

Before I could go straight to the kitchen to leave the preys, I saw how the yard was in a frenzied movement, everyone running this way or another. _What is happening?_ And just then I realized that maybe I was out more time than I expected. If that were to be true I was in trouble, in a big one. My second thought was for Theon. They might have noticed his absence too. What if they thought he was trying to escape?

"Lyanna!" I heard Robb shouting. I had two options before someone spotted me: going back to the forest for Theon or… WAIT! There was an even better choice! I went straight to the hole from where I came from. When I reached the little lake I called out for Theon. He was still near there. "Theon! I need you to take me back to Winterfell! NOW!" He just lifted his head calmly. "What is it now? Have you got lost?"

"I'll explain you everything on the way, but we need to get going." He reluctantly stood up and followed me.

The front door was wide open, the guards that should be guarding it, searching for me, most certainly. That's why we made it until the main yard without being noticed.

"LYANNA!", cried my mother. She ran to me, crying like I never had seen her crying. All the people immediately stopped doing whatever they were doing. "Where were you? We were all worried something bad had happened to you." Then she saw my bow and arrows and the rabbits and squirrels. "You went hunting." She said it more to herself, like assuming it. "You went hunting." And then she slapped me and started shaking me. "What were you thinking, Lyanna, what?" It was then when she noticed Theon. My plan seemed as if it was gonna shatter into pieces because I couldn't speak. I hoped Theon could. "YOU, what are you doing with her?"

"I found her, my lady."

"I haven't seen you in all day."

"I didn't want anyone to find me today, my lady". He was cheeky, an unwise thing to do with Mother. "When I heard Lyanna was missing I helped finding her." He had his arms at the back and was looking straight to my mother's eyes. She seemed to believe that although I knew that she would talk with Theon again later. Now, I was the main concern. Father appeared in the yard, heartbroken. His heart seemed to stop when he saw me. "Lyanna", he whispered. And then I remembered that I wasn't the first Lyanna on his life. His sister, dead before I was even born, might well be on his thoughts now. He kneeled before me, shocked, as if I was some kind of dream and embraced me firmly and so did I. I just went hunting during the morning but it all seem as if I went missing during days, maybe months. I felt sad really, sad for having my parents worried, for having Arya crying in front of me.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again, do you hear me?" He gently shook me, looking at me. I just nodded, serious. He then turned to Theon, a little bit distracted. "Thank you, Theon." His ward nodded, dead serious too, then looked at me, worried. "Now go to your room, we'll talk later."

On the way to my bedroom I found Jon and Robb. Both were running as fast as they could, so when they stopped at the sight of me, they almost fell down the stairs. "Has someone done anything to you?" Robb started. "I'll kill _him_. What happened?" I looked down and passed next to them.

"I just went hunting." I left both of them shocked.

My parents came to see me later that day to talk to me, to explain myself, to tell them why on seven hells I went out without telling anyone. I didn't speak. I didn't want to. Before leaving, Mother said it would be long before I saw the light of day from somewhere that wasn't my window. Theon brought my supper. Of course it wasn't coincidence it was him. He also wanted to talk. "Why didn't you tell them it was my idea? If this is some kind of trick…"

"Don't be stupid, you know it's not a trick. It wasn't your fault, it was mine. I chose to go. I'm the one to blame." He was at the door. I wasn't looking at him. Now he talked more afraid than ever. "You know what will happen if…if…" We looked at each other. We didn't say anything. We didn't need to. I probably knew Theon Greyjoy even better than him, and he knew that. But what I did wasn't because of what happened between the Greyjoys and the realm some years ago. I told the truth. It was my choice and it was me who needed to pay, not him.


	3. A Visit full of Surprises

**Chapter III**

It seemed as if I had been locked in my bedchamber since forever. This time the visiting schedule seemed to be stricter. I barely had any visits. But as it turned out the gods were merciful and Mother had to leave for some days to Riverrun. I didn't know for what but I was thankful. If I was lucky enough, maybe Father would let me out of this dungeon.

I got near the window. The yard was full of action, everyone running this way or the other. Even my brothers were in the middle of it.

"You should be getting ready." It was Father.

"Getting ready? For what?"

"Your Mother would probably kill me for this but you've already been punished for too long. Besides, no one can stop "the wolf blood" that runs through your veins, something I think your lady Mother hasn't quite understand yet." He said with a smile. "The wolf blood". I liked to think that we Starks descended from the direwolves, and so we carried their blood through our veins. Yet Father had only refer to it when talking of Arya or me. "Get ready, I have to do my duties as warden of the North." After that, he left.

I decided to use my own clothes this time, although I knew Robb's would be more comfortable. I put on one of my warmest cloaks as well. It might be summer but in the north, well, it was needless to say that that didn't mean "warmth" at all. I also got my little dagger, the one Jon got from Mikken, the smith. I ran as fast as I could, looking forward to be free, to get out of Winterfell. At the door I found my horse, already saddled, ready to be mounted. Apparently, Robb, Jon and Theon knew nothing about this: they were very surprised to see me.

"Father has definitely got a soft spot for you, sweet sister," said Robb drawing a wide smile on his face. I just answered with a funny face.

Lord Eddard Stark took his duties very serious which this time meant visiting one of the other Lords of the North. He usually received them at Winterfell but the Lord wasn't feeling very well and his Maester had strongly advised him not to go too far from bed. I think that's why Father was loved in the North. He cared as much for his Lords as he did for his daughters and sons.

My brothers decided to entertain themselves doing some horse races well ahead of the rest of the party. I would have joined them but for one time I preferred to stay at the rear, smelling and listening my freedom. Or well, I was, until Greyjoy ruined everything by shouting that I was a craven. My eyes snapped open in the blink of an eye and before anyone could say anything I was galloping towards those three idiots. When I was getting near I could hear them laughing as they ever had done before and then in a matter of seconds they were also galloping. Needless to say how exhausted were our poor horses when we arrived at the lord's castle, just before night broke.

We were received with great honor by the Lord himself. You didn't have to be a Maester to recommend that poor man to stay on bed. He did look terrible. He went one by one of us, remarking how strong Robb was or how remarkably similar Jon was to his father but with me was different. He did stop to say some compliments.

"Your eldest daughter, I would dare to say," he glanced at Father briefly and after he nodded, his stare went straight to me again. "What they say is true, then. With each passing day she looks even more similar to your sister. If it wasn't for that auburn hair and those blue eyes of the Tullys, anyway." I just draw a nervous smile, incapable of saying anything, not that I was invited to. Obviously he completely ignored Theon. After that greeting we were lead to the Great Hall, where a copious dinner was being served. I was really hungry but I remember that a Lady has to maintain certain courtesies at table, so I ate with a rhythm that seem to indicate that my stomach was just as the size of a chickpea. At Winterfell I wouldn't have stopped talking during all the dinner, but it was difficult to articulate any word in front of these strange people, especially when the Lord's sons were looking at me continually.

After dinner, servants were ordered to lead my brothers and me and the rest of the party to the guests' rooms while Father and the Lord talked peacefully near the fire. I was starting to follow one of the maids when one of the Lord's sons stepped in the way and offered himself to lead me personally. He said it so gallantly it was impossible to refuse the offer without being rude. I glanced at my brothers for some kind of help. The three of them just smirked. I was surprised even Jon had done it. It was the first time the three of them were on the same boat. I looked back to the boy and accepted his hand. He was silent at first, like trying to think what to tell me. In the end, I took the lead.

"This is the first time I've been so far from home."

"Oh, is it? I hope you're enjoying yourself then, my lady."

"I am, indeed. It was a warmth welcome and a marvelous dinner." We followed talking for a while but it didn't go on much further. Before going he kissed my hand and bowed. I gave him a warm smile hoping that he didn't take it for a sign that I liked him. I mean, he seemed nice but nothing else.

This room had views to the outer part of the castle which meant that now by night, a sky full of stars was looking down at me. I went to sleep promptly, unaware of what businesses kept my Father and the Lord wide awake on the Great Hall.

Lord Eddard almost certainly knew what his Lord wanted from him. They had been talking about old battles, about the long summer they had been granted with and any other subject they could have had the opportunity of talking. But those weren't the reason why he was there. The Lord cleared his throat and expose what Ned had been waiting for all night:

"I believe you've seen my sons, Lord Eddard. Quite strong boys and smart. I'm very proud of them," he made a dramatic pause and looked straight to the eyes of his Lord, "and yet I haven't quite achieved to marry my eldest son. His mother has such a soft spot for him she didn't let me even make arrangements for a future wedding. I couldn't resist but fulfilling her desires either, you see. So it would be a great honor if you could give your eldest daughter's hand in marriage to my eldest boy. I believe you already had glimpsed that, hadn't you, my lord?"

"I did, indeed," Lord Stark said, nodding and making the thinnest hint of a smile.

"And?"

"And I'm afraid I must decline this gentle offer, my Lord," the man was taken aback at first for the refusal but then he just nodded and looked at Ned waiting for more explanations, "as my daughter is already promised to Quentyn Martell, Prince of Dorne." Ned was happy he had decided to make this match beforehand. At first he felt bad as he promised Lyanna not to talk about marriage for a while but what she said on the yard that day about Dorne made him think. _"Dornish women are treated equal to their men,"_ his daughter had said. She was no Dornish women and she would never be one… unless she married a Dornish man. Not long after that, he talked with Catelyn and Maester Luwin, his counselor and tutor of his children. The Maester loved them as if they were his own blood and so he would know if it was a good match.

"For all I know about Dorne, I do think it's the perfect place for your daughter Lyanna, my Lord. I've even heard that prince Oberyn's daughters, so called Sand Snakes, are well trained in warfare," the Maester had said. Catelyn agreed but only partially as she thought their daughters were meant to be ladies, not warriors. But she too had to accept that Dornish princes were a perfect match for their daughter. "The oldest son of Doran Martell, Quentyn, hasn't yet been betrothed." Although it was usually done the other way around, Lord Eddard sent a raven to Sunspear. His response was back at Winterfell within a fortnight. The Prince Doran accepted his petition. He determined that on Lyanna's thirteenth Name Day, his son Quentyn and he himself would visit them at Winterfell in order to formalize this marriage proposal. It would be after her sixteenth Name Day that House Stark and House Martell should join.


	4. The Black Brother

**Chapter IV**

Nothing much happened the next day at the Lord's castle. Their sons were still courteous with me but they didn't try to speak more than needed. Father said the farewells to the Lord on his bedchamber and his sons accompany all our party to the gates.

This time it was me who distanced myself from the party. I didn't have any particular reason to do it, just wanted to be alone for a while. I reached the woods' borderline before anyone else was even in sight. And from the very moment I entered I knew something wrong was going to happen. Alert as only fear can make you be, I looked in every direction, wondering what danger may lay ahead. When I was already thinking that maybe it was all in my head, I saw it. A direwolf. The animal that Starks had always used as sigil, an animal that has never been seen this south of the Wall for ages but there it was. I was sure it was no common wolf. It couldn't be, it was so big!

My horse was restless and beginning to slightly trot away. What kept my mare on her place was the stream that separated her and the direwolf. That and, well, that the animal hadn't moved an inch since I had set my eyes on it. I didn't know what to do. I was afraid the wild animal would jump on me if I dare to move but on the other hand, moving was the only way to get away from it. Another sound caught us both, the direwolf and myself, surprised. It came from my left. I looked that way and saw nothing but a shadow. The woods were so dense in that part it was impossible to say what could have been behind the bushes. It could well have been any other animal, so I looked back to the direwolf only that it wasn't there anymore. In fact, it was nowhere to be found. That was both, reliving and worrisome. Then I heard _it_. A whoosh sound just at my back. I spinned my head around but trying to move my horse only lightly. There were five men, one of them with a bow, the arrow already ready to be shot.

"Girl, get off your horse, _now_!" One of the men commanded. I could guess who this people were thanks to their clothes. All of them were wearing similar clothes. All but one. A man of the Night's Watch.

"You come from north of the Wall," I told them from my horse saddle. I was surprised. It was not a common sight. The Wall was a giant ice floe, how could have they gotten through? And moreover, Winterfell was at a distance of some days trip from there.

"Smart little girl," said again the first man who spoke, "now _off your horse_!" The man of the Night's Watch was standing near that man, but he seemed out of this world. He was looking at me, dead serious. I got off my mare and took the reins from the ground, as to be sure she wouldn't run but also stroke her softly. I didn't want her to run away, frightened, leaving me alone with this strange men.

"You shouldn't be here. Lord Stark will chop off your head if he finds you," I was directly talking to the man in black. And he knew.

"So you know Lord Eddard, don't you, little girl?," he replied.

"I've heard what he does to men who escape from the Wall," sweat was starting to appear above my brows.

"You've heard it, or you've seen it, little wolf?," he was kneeling near me, now. So he knew who I was. I was dressing richly but for all they knew I could be any Lord's daughter. Why did he…? Then I saw it. I was wearing a necklace with the sigil of House Stark.

"Little wolf? So, the girl is…," started one of the wildlings.

"A Stark bitch!," ended another. I caught the reins of my mare more tightly to have her closer to me, as if she could protect me from these men. "Let's rip off her clothes. I bet you they're worth a fortune!"

"She's just a girl," the man with the bow and arrows started, lowering it a little, "if she's Stark's daughter, we better go away before he comes closer. Have you got anything you can give us, wolf girl?" I didn't. I shook my head.

"She has to have something of value there," said the man who had suggested ripping my clothes off. He looked then at me. I didn't know what to do so I stayed quite, making some of them impatient. The man was getting closer when the Night's Watch man, still on his knee, stopped him with his hand and starting talking to me again, "Anything of value, wolf girl?". Then I remember the dagger Jon gave me. It was at my back, behind my cloak. But I was not gonna give them another weapon.

"This." I took off my necklace. "It's made of silver, all of it. I'm sure it will buy you something." Father gave it to me on my seventh Name Day. _A special gift for a special day_ , he had said then. And now I was giving it away. Then was when the man the Black Brother had stopped came to me with all its fury. "Do you want to make _me_ believe that a Lord's daughter only has _this_ to offer?," he draw his dagger, place it near my neck, pulling off my hair. I started whimpering and begging.

"Please, please, I have nothing else, you can have my clothes…please, please," I began to cry and my tears started to blind me.

"Tom, are you out of your mind? She's just a girl!," the man of the Night's Watch began, getting to his feet and getting near us. His hand was almost at reach when two arrows knock off Tom. The Black Brother got me by the shoulder and throw me to the ground. More arrows followed, killing the other wildlings. My mare was long gone, and the Black Brother, the only one standing, was aiming for the woods at our left when an arrow, a Theon Greyjoy's arrow, reached him at the shoulder, causing him to fall to the ground. There was all the party, my Father included. Theon, the closest one to me, was kneeling to help me to my feet and my Father was running towards me when I swiftly got up and run to the fallen brother. His face was touching the ground, but he raised his head when I got near.

"What are you doing, wolf girl?," he said with a smile. I was scowling at him, confused. He was with the others, but he had been _good_. As good and kind one can be when you're trying to steal from someone, but still. I reached for the arrow on his shoulder and took it off. He grunted but was slightly relieved a second later.

"He's a sworn brother of the Night's Watch, my Lord," Jory Cassel said.

"So it seems," my Father said grimly from behind me. I didn't know how he reached from behind without me noticing. I glanced back at him, worried for what was surely to happen next. Father pulled me to my feet and put both his hands one my shoulders, then look back to the brother. The man turned, letting his back to the ground. Blood was flowing from his wound.

"You know what fate awaits those who escape. Why doing it?," the man laughed as to himself.

"Why?," more laughing. "They say serving at the Wall is honorable. It can seem so when you're a boy, when you don't know what life is about. Later you realize you were deceived, that they took your life from you for nothing." His tone had completely changed. No more irony. He was dead serious again. They truly had taken his life away.

"For nothing? You protect the realm as much as the King," Father replied. The man answered with more sarcastic laughter.

"Protect the realm from what? From the wildlings? I think your archers did that job pretty good, Lord Eddard." He glanced at his friends shortly, then looked back to Father. "They are our brothers, they're northerners as much as you are as much as I am…or _was_ , anyway." Father was going to reply, but I began first, getting rid of his grip.

"Where do you come from?," I asked with the curiosity of a child. The man laughed again, but this time, it was a true laugh.

"From Greywater Watch. My Father serves the Reeds." Father seemed to have enough of talking. Nothing the man could say would serve to free him from his fate, anyway.

"Jory, help the man to his feet," then he turned to me, kneeling to be at my height, "how are you, my girl?," Father pushed some of my forehead hair away, to better see my eyes.

"I'm good Father. You came before anything bad happened," then some tears dropped from my eyes, "you can't hurt this man, Father. He didn't want to make anything bad! He-he was going to stop the other! Father-"

"There, child. He broke his oath, I have no other choice. It's also my duty as Warden of the North, you know that, my girl."

"You _do_ have a choice! No one will know if you release him. Please, Father, please!"

" _I_ would know, my girl."

The party galloped until we reached the place where Father did his duty. Where he chopped off the head of men who broke their oaths. Theon gave Father his sword, Ice. I was behind them, with Robb and Jon while Father said why and in whose name he had to do it. Jon had told me he always said it, that he had to. When he finished, he asked the man if he had some lasts words. He looked straight to me with a smile and said: "Thank you, wolf girl". His lasts words. His lasts words were directed to me. Father held his sword high and was going to cut the man's neck when I run and embraced the Black brother. Father stopped his swift movement just in time. His face was dread with terror as he could have killed me right there.

"Please, Father, please," I pleaded, my face full of tears. His terror lead to fury. He gave me the most serious and scary scowl ever. "Jory!," he screamed, "take my daughter back to Winterfell, _now_!" Jory had to hold me tightly as I did everything that was at my hand to get rid of his grip. He somehow managed to sit me on his horse and gallop to Winterfell, though not before I could see my Father decapitating the Sworn Black brother.

Jon told me later that night that the poor man had died with a smile on his face.


	5. Blood and Heart and Darkness

**Chapter 5**

Weeks and months had passed since I saw how Father killed the Black brother yet I couldn't forget his face and how he smiled at me. "Thank you, wolf girl", had been his lasts words. I had dreams about it, about his death but today's dream was different, very different. I saw the wolf in the woods again but it had blue eyes, eyes as cold as mine. The wolf was running, an endless race it seemed. And then blood. I didn't know where it came from, it didn't seem as if the wolf was bleeding, still the blood covered my vision and the world turned red. My body ached. I woke up startled. The wolf and the woods were gone but the pain did not. When I moved under the sheets I felt something that made me feel uncomfortable. It was like water, but more dense. I had a look and all I found was blood, blood that covered my thighs as well. It was my eleventh Name Day and it seemed as if Mother Nature herself had decided to give me a present. One I did not want for a certainty.

A big feast was celebrated that day for Robb and me. I've always loved our Name Day as well as those of my siblings. It was special for all Winterfell. But this time my belly ached too much for concentrating at something that it wasn't the actual pain. Mother said that it was normal but that the pain will fade and that it did not always hurt. Yet she looked kind of... "happy"? She had a smile on her face, that was for sure. Maybe she thought that **this** would end my days as a fighter. It did get things more complex, anyway.

I managed to go to the dinner at night. Everyone was drinking and eating merrily. I even forgot about the pain that was long faded. And so our Name Day came and go.

" _I think we should tell Lyanna, Ned," Catelyn said. "She has already had her blood. She's old enough."_

" _I promised her I wouldn't make a match for her until she was older. She would be furious to hear about it. Is that what you want?," he said this last thing smiling. He could easily imagine how badly Catelyn would handle an irritated young wolf like Lyanna. Catelyn also showed a shy hint of a smile but one that faded quickly. "We have to tell her promptly in any case."_

" _And we will tell her, when the time comes. For now, let her be. Let her enjoy her life with her siblings." Catelyn nodded bitterly as she did not agree. They slept in their big featherbed, windows wide open, embraced closely while cold winds entered the room._

The first thing I did next morning was going to the godswood. I always went if I felt confused, sad or afraid. But other times I just went there and walked through to the long-abandoned First Keep. Today was one of the last kind but this time I wanted to go to the crypts of Winterfell, not to the Keep. What I was not expecting was to find Theon Greyjoy on the entrance to the godswood. The Greyjoys' gods were different to the ones of the North and even different to the ones the Southerners worshipped. _The Drowned God_ was his name, as Theon himself and Maester Luwin had told her. Still he was so far from the sea...With who would he talk? With whom would have he been sharing his worries? Maybe he did talk to the same gods as I did even if he wouldn't admit it. He was sat, sharpening his arrow heads.

"I wasn't expecting you here, Theon." He lifted his head. He surely wasn't expecting anybody either. "What are you doing here?," he hated being disturbed, that was certain.

"I'm going to the crypts."

"And what is a squirt like you going to do down there?" He was standing now. I ignored his insult.

"I just want to see them again, The Kings in the North. Will you come," I started asking while I passed next to him and then looking back I finished, "or are you a craven?" That was all I needed to say to make him come. When we reached the entrance, two direwolves welcomed us at each side. I stopped to look at them and to the entrance; the black entrance that seemed would swallow us both. "Are you afraid now?," said Theon. "I've heard the Starks spirits are all over the crypts. Are you afraid of them?," I didn't even look at him to answer. I was that much absorbed by the darkness. "I'm their descendant, you idiot. They won't make me any harm. Let's go." We had taken one of the torches that guarded the door.

The spiral staircase went so deep into the earth that it seemed as if we were never going to reach the crypts. I was leading the way, with Theon always close. After several long minutes we arrived at the first level, the one that wasn't still full. The place where one day my Father and brothers may be buried. I didn't want to think about it but the thought was there, very present.

"And what exactly do you want to see? They're just statues."

"They are, but they were Kings before being stone. They say they were truly cold as winter. Maybe that's what a King needs. _Coldness_. Coldness to keep his mind always ready to any circumstance." I was looking to one of those kings straight to his stone eyes, spellbound.

"Well, I hope they weren't as cold in their beds, I can tell you their women wouldn't like that," he smirked. I looked back at him with my brows raised. How could he be that stupid? "I'm talking about ruling not about-about...love-making!"

"It's much of the same in your case. You don't know anything about either."

"Oh, but you do?!" Why did he always have the need to feel superior?

"I'm a man, almost grown. Of course I know about both things."

"Well, I think you know nothing either!" Of course he did not know about ruling! Well, he as well as she was present when Lord Eddard received their Lords or served justice as Warden. So he might know something about ruling but about love...what could they two know about it? Apart from family love, maybe.

I decided to apart my thoughts from that and kept walking. Maester Luwin had told us about every King in the North, the ones who had interesting stories and the ones who had ruled without any relevant matter. Being there was like taking part in their story, in the very history of the Starks. When I was even younger I dreamt about becoming Lady of Winterfell alongside Robb. Of course not much later I discovered the truth, that only Robb would be Lord of Winterfell, or Bran or if it was a boy, the baby that our Mother was carrying in her belly. But still I admire those men I never knew. I was captivated by their stories of how they conquered and hold the North. Some of those stories were gruesome and repulsive but still I admired their strength and I wished I was one day able to win a reputation like theirs. At that time, I didn't have even the slightest hint of what I was asking for and like many other things I wouldn't know it until much later.

We walked near the end of the hall, until I saw aunt Lyanna. Among everything else, she was the one true ghost I was afraid of. I was afraid I would share more than her name one day. Although our Father refused to tell us about her we learned the truth anyway. You cannot keep as a secret what the world already knows too well. Although maybe only Lord Eddard truly knew what happened on that so-called Tower of Joy.

After a while we began our way back to the stairs. The visit always filled me with bravery but also dread. Maybe those two shouldn't be kept too far from each other.

"What do you think about meeting tomorrow here again in the godswood?," I found myself saying while Theon was already starting to go away from me. He turned on his heels and said, "And for what exactly, squirt?"

"I like to come here before going to the First Keep. I like to be there alone at times for no particular reason but other times I practice my sword skills there, out of my Mother's sight. It would be better to practice with another person I guess." He just shrugged and nodded, then strided away.

We started meeting in the godswood more a more often from that moment on. Sometimes we went to the Keep and practiced with the sword. Other times, if there was no one else in the godswood, we just stayed there and talked. As it happens, Theon was starting to trust me and started telling me things I was sure he wouldn't have told me before. As for me, I started to grow fonder of him. And without knowing it, although I was scared that would happen, I started to walk the same path my aunt Lyanna walked once.


	6. The new Princess of Dorne

**Chapter VI**

Sometimes our meetings were really early in the morning and this one was a particularly fresh one but we decided to stay in the godswood, anyway. I loved the whispers the wind made each time it brushed against the leaves. Theon came then, sword in hand. I didn't want to fight. Not today.

"I don't wanna fight today, Theon, sit down," I said with a smile, closing my eyes to hear the wind. I felt him sitting down near me, beneath the heart tree.

"So what does my lady wanna do today?," mockery. Again. And a sly smile I could picture in my mind. I had been thinking about something for a while. Maybe Theon did too. Maybe he didn't. The only thing I could do was asking him. I was afraid he would never meet with me alone again, though. But I had to try, so I said it. "Do you think our Father would let me marry you when we come of age?," direct, without a time to flinch. I always called Lord Eddard _our_ Father as he was raising Theon among the rest of us. In that sense, he was his Father too. Theon always corrected that.

"Not _my_ Father, _yours_. And I don't know, why should it matter?" How could he be so stupid? I snapped my eyes open and looked at him, not believing what I had just heard.

"Well, that marriage would unite House Greyjoy and House Stark. Maybe that way they stop the hate and the fighting." I looked away, remembering Balon's rebellion as I had heard it in Winterfell years ago. I was little, but so worried about Father…He just hissed, almost laughed.

"Do you think that would stop it? I'm still a _hostage!,_ " he said, but what Lyanna didn't know was that he too had hoped that. The motives were different: for him that may be freedom, a kind of it, for her, that feeling was born out of love. The love an eleven-year-old believes to feel, anyway. In any case, it was true the boy did love her in a way. "And that won't change with a stupid marriage. Besides, they stole a son from my Father. I don't think that would be forgotten." Pain. I thought of how I would feel if it was me the one trapped in Pyke. Far from home. Far from family. Then I kissed him. Not in the cheeks, not in his forehead. In his lips. A brief kiss, yet I could feel his heat. He didn't say anything when I distance myself slightly to see his face. He was not shocked yet no silly smile was on his face. A little bit off-guard, maybe?

"So you really want to be lady Greyjoy?"

"Didn't say anything about it, I only kissed you," I whispered, with a shy smile. He nodded, more to himself and then raised himself from the ground. Before going away, he just said: "So no swords today, right?" I looked up straight into his eyes, still smiling and answered: "No, no swords today." Then he exited the godswood. I could have swear he was slightly red then.

"No swords today, no," I repeated to myself, my head placed on the heart tree, eyes closed.

 **Time goes fast** , at times too fast indeed. The baby had already been born, a boy. Rickon they called him. Our sweet, little Rickon. He was small but seemed strong. Not long after Maester Luwin let us see Mother, we entered the room running and excited. Father was already there, the baby on his arms. Jon didn't want to come, he said he would only bother Mother. Arya and I made him come. He _had_ to. Rickon was also his brother. It didn't matter that only half of him. I think the baby felt us, so many strange people entering the room, as he started whimpering.

"Sh, sh," Father and Mother tried to calm him down. "It's just your siblings, Rickon," said Mother. It seemed to work as when we got closer he stopped crying and starting smiling and laughing. We were all on the bed, looking at him, smiling at him. Bran was the first to get closer and touch the baby's hand. In answer, the baby hit Bran on the nose. We all laughed, even Bran. I still remember that moment as if it was yesterday. But that moment, like everything, came to an end.

"Your Mother and Rickon need to rest, children," said Father, "Sansa, Arya, Septa Mordane is waiting for you. Robb, Jon, Rodrik wants you two to join today's swords practice." Bran interrupted his talk. "Can I go too?" Father laughed and nodded, then when all of us were almost at the door, he continued his speech: "Lyanna, stay. Your Mother and I have to tell you something important." If it wasn't for their warm smiles I would have been scared. "Can I stay too?," asked Arya. I looked at her. Lately she always wanted to be near me and I loved her company but this time Father did not permit it. Only when all my siblings were gone and the door was closed, did Father began to speak.

" _You're almost twelve now, Lyanna. I promised you…," a different Lyanna, another promise, "I promised you not to talk about marriage for a while but I'm afraid that time has come, sweetheart." Catelyn had urged him to do it now. A little more than a year separated Lyanna from meeting Quentyn. Telling her a little bit before of her thirteenth Name Day won't make it any better. Maybe Catelyn was right. Lyanna was their first daughter. And she resembled Lyanna in so many ways it reminded him of her in almost everything. Maybe that made him act softly with her._

" _You made wedding arrengements?," she looked up, chin as up as she could, trying not to show her feelings but her Father could see right through her._

" _Yes. Prince Quentyn of House Martell is your betrothed," she seemed slightly relieved, but still something in the way she looked, made him think she didn't quite like that arrangement._

" _And when… when will he and I…?" She was unable to end the question._

" _He will come to Winterfell on your thirteenth Name Day to confirm the marriage proposal. But the wedding would not take place until your sixteenth Name Day." He was closer to her now. Catelyn was still seated on their featherbed with Rickon on her arms, looking at her daughter all the time, to see every reaction she had about her marriage. Fear appeared in her face, the fear of being married to a man she didn't know anything about. A fear Catelyn knew too well. "I've heard of Prince Quentyn, my love," she started, "he's said to be a gentle and… a day-dreaming young man," although Lyanna was not like Sansa, who loved stories about princes and princesses, Catelyn knew those words might lift her spirits. Still her stare looked lost and his eyes didn't shone as Catelyn had expected. After all it was_ _ **Dorne**_ _, all she ever dreamt about! Maybe she only needed more time to think about it. Yes, maybe it was just that._

" _If that is all, can I go?" Now she did look at her parents. Eddard as Catelyn was puzzled but he didn't quite know what to say. He approached his daughter, placed a hand on her cheek and said, "He's a good match, sweetheart, you'll see when you two meet," then he smiled. Lyanna looked at him, serious. "And what if he's not?" After that the little wolf went out of the room, leaving her parents behind and her baby brother who started crying not long after she took her leave._

 _Lyanna went straight to the godswood and sat herself down under the heart tree, her hands and head in her knees. Theon didn't come around that day something for what she was grateful._


	7. The Wolf's Blood

**Chapter VII- The wolf's blood**

 _After telling Lyanna about Quentyn, the girl was wilder than ever. Catelyn could not remember her daughter acting so badly. She never worked on her stitching when she was told to, when she played at swords with her brothers she didn't hear Rodrik Cassel at all. She even got to hit Robb and that Jon Snow so hard Maester Luwin had to see to their wounds. Not that they were seriously injured, but still. For what she heard of servants, Lyanna was in the godswood half the day. And servants had to take her food there at times, as she wouldn't appear on the dining room. Eddard was furious with Lyanna and went to see her in several occasions. As he and Catelyn saw it, a lady of twelve-years of age could not act as a wildling. But he never got the girl to talk. If Eddard went to the godswood for her, she ran away to the Keep, if he went to her room she would stay in her bed, looking to the opposite direction as where her Father stood and waited either for him to go or to fall asleep._

No one seemed to realize how terrible that matching was. No one but me. I loved Dorne, _yes_ , but living there the rest of my life, far from home and with people I didn't almost know anything about… It didn't sound very attractive. I was completely ignoring Father's visits until the tenth day. Then I got all my courage together to tell him what I thought about it. He might listen and since the pact was not yet closed he could change his mind. That afternoon, when he came to the godswood he was really surprised I answered him back: "Lyanna…," Lord Eddard started, dead serious. "Father, I don't want to marry Prince Quentyn," he tried to say something but I started to talk faster. I needed to say everything at once, otherwise I might not dare to say it. "He's not the only strange thing to me. I have heard only stories about Dorne. I would love to go there once, but maybe I would not like it… and I would be so far from home… Every Stark who goes South…," he cut me just there. He knew what would come after that. "I thought you loved Dorne, Lyanna. It's everything you ever talk about," Lord Eddard was confused and just now hurt. The South…Dorne…the mountains of Dorne…

"I'm afraid," I said looking at his eyes now. It was the truth. I _was_ afraid. "Why not marrying me to a northerner Lord? There are plenty," I didn't want that either but maybe this was an easier way to start the talk about marrying Theon. Father was puzzled with all this. He truly had thought the marriage with a Dornishman would delight me. "I have thought that…well, another option," I started, shyly, "another option might be marrying Theon," Lord Eddard, lost in his thoughts until then, looked at me, shocked. "Lyanna…"

"Wait, you haven't heard everything!," I continued, moving nervously, "It would be a perfect match in political… in political terms, that's it. Then Lord Balon might forget about our mutual hate!," it did sound well in my mind. Father didn't seem so sure about it. "You said it, child. He _might_ forget it. But if there is a thing the Greyjoys won't do, is forgetting. Two of his sons died in that Rebellion, Lyanna. That's not a thing a Father easily forgets."

"He forgot Theon. Why not the others?," the question was cold as the North itself but it was said with the innocence of a child.

"I don't think he forgot his son. Theon has to remain here for what his Father did. None of this situation will change with a marriage, Lyanna," he then looked away and after some minutes of silence, he looked back at me, "the betrothal is arranged. I have arranged it this way as I think Quentyn will be a good husband to you. You'll see soon enough. For now, please, behave yourself. Be obedient and don't hurt your brothers. Is that understood, little wolf?," he ended with a smile. It was impossible to say no and it was the first time Father called me that way.

 _Lord Eddard was sure now he had made the perfect match for Lyanna. She would see that when she was older. But still, the girl's petition had caught him off-guard. "Then Lord Balon might forget about our mutual hate!," she had said. Did his daughter truly see it like that or did she…? It was quite a remark and if Balon Greyjoy were to be a man with sense, it might well have been an option. But he knew the man too well to know it would make no difference. Even with his two eldest sons dead as cause of his Rebellion, the marriage could bring a true peace between the Houses. One that didn't include keeping his only surviving son as a hostage. But Balon was not a man to trust. The day Lyanna arrived at Pyke she would most surely become a hostage herself. Even if she didn't realize it. Could it be then that she had suggested it for other reasons? That Lord Eddard didn't truly know._

After a while alone in the godswood I decided to walk back to my chambers. What I wasn't expecting was bumping into Sansa and Jeyne Poole. The moment they saw me they were all smiles and giggles. "You're going to marry a _prince_! Isn't that perfect, sister?," Sansa was the lady someone might encounter in stories, the princess that yearns for her beautiful prince. I also liked those stories, indeed I told her a few myself. But dwelling in dreams could be dangerous. I was only twelve and one of those dreams had already been taken, shattered. "We've heard he's so handsome!," said Jeyne Poole. They were quite similar, these two girls. I sighed and tried to act as if I was glad too. "So they say! He will come soon enough apparently, we'll see ourselves, girls," I winked and they started giggling again.

I was about to enter the castle when someone threw itself over me. Then Arya's voice shouted, "I don't want you to go!" I faced my little sister. "You can't go, I don't want to stay alone with Sansa when stitching!," I caressed one of her cheeks softly while saying, "Arya, I won't be going anywhere for now, don't worry. The prince has to come to Winterfell first and then he'll have to wait until my sixteenth Name Day for the wedding. That day is still far away, sweet sister." That didn't sooth her very much. "But, but… will Father marry me soon too?," I began to laugh lightly. "You're too little, sweet one. And I think Father will have it difficult to find a husband worthy of your bravery and cleverness." Arya seemed to be slightly better, even drawing a shy smile. We didn't like the idea of marrying but it had to be that way. "Besides, you could come South to visit! Wouldn't it be perfect? They say the Sand Snakes are well trained in battle, they might teach us something interesting!," Arya got immediately excited as if she had remembered something important. "Princess Nymeria helped the Martells conquering Dorne! She was a warrior queen, nobody told her what to do. It might not be that bad there," she admitted at the end, lowering her chin. I embraced her tightly, both laughing.

A Rhoynar princess helped the Martells winning the supremacy in Dorne. What will happen when a Stark of Winterfell arrived that South? A lone wolf that went as south as south goes. I looked up, and all I could see was the _red_ of the sunset, a scarlet red sunset.


	8. The Heart of the Little Wolf

**Chapter VIII**

Winterfell was in frenzy movement. The day the Princes of Dorne would come to the North was almost at hand. You could almost feel it in the air. Everyone had something to do, some chores to attend to. I was looking down at them from my window sill, my hands and head on my knees. Already sad even when it was only a visit. But a visit that made my wedding more real, nearer.

"I think you have a lot of work to do, sis', you can't wear this in front of the Princes," said the voice of Robb. I turned around. Jon was also with him, both grinning. I smiled back at them. "I'm not done yet!" I snatched the dress from his hands and sat on the bed.

"I thought you preferred cold colors," said Jon.

"And I do, but when I think of Dorne all I can see is a sunset orange. It is a good color. I suppose the Prince would like it."

"So you _are_ interested in him," Robb sat near me, interrogating. "I wouldn't say _interested_ , but if we're going to marry it's better not to hate each other." I continued sewing, a little bit uncomfortable about the subject. "You should see Sansa and Jeyne," said Jon sitting next to me as well, "they can't help talking about the Princes. Maybe Father chose the wrong sister to marry." His tone was sarcastic, but not mine. "Maybe," I said raising one of my brows. Robb opened his mouth to say something but I started first, determined not to hear anything else about the subject: "Just don't say anything else about it, please. Could you two at least act as if nothing had happened?" I raised my head in order to look to both boys. They nodded. Then with a smile I suggested playing at swords later on. They eagerly agreed.

 _Quentyn, already on his way North, asked himself about this girl he will marry. He had heard of the Starks of course. They were the only family in Westeros to have held their region for hundreds and hundreds of years. Not even Martells, whose words were "Unbowed, unbent, unbroken" had always ruled Dorne. In the South the Starks were regarded as strong, but also stubborn and cold. Many different gossips and comments had been on servants' mouths for weeks: ones said the girl was just like her aunt Lyanna, which didn't quite helped the lad; others that marrying a Martell to a Stark would not bring any good to Dorne or even Westeros; he had even heard the girl was a savage, completely uncivilized. Quentyn didn't know what to think about all that, what he did know was that he was completely mystified about her already, about the girl he would find. Would she be as terrible as everyone pictured her? That didn't matter to him. He just wanted to meet Lyanna Stark, the little wolf, as he had heard from his sister's mouth._

Theon didn't play with us that day. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. I hadn't talk much with him lately and it seemed he was averting me but I haven't done anything _bad_ or mean for him to act like that. I was thinking about that when Robb hit me at the top of my head. He was most surely expecting me to intercept his blow or he wouldn't have hit so hard. The sword felt from my hands, which went straight to the sore spot. I felt to the ground, tightening my teeth to prevent myself from screaming. "Lyanna!," both my brothers shouted. "It hurts so bad!" Jory was near there and swiftly carried me from the ground to see Maester Luwin. The old man was in his turret, reading some old book of his. The Maester didn't even have the chance to speak when Robb bursted, "I hit her on her head harder than I thought…I, I, she's bleeding a lot, Maester…" The old man tried to calm him while checking my wound. "Shh, shh, don't worry, little Lord. It looks worse than it really is. Lyanna will be okay in a tick." He cleaned and closed the wound, then applied some lotion and bandages. "Better, my lady?" I nodded. I felt quite dizzy but I trusted Maester Luwin: He always had a cure for everything. If he was done, then I would be fine soon enough. "You should go to bed and rest, Lyanna. I think you've had enough adventures for today." He was smiling warmly, wrinkles in every inch of his face. I jumped from the table Jory sat me on and embraced the old Maester. I said nothing, but I would miss him too. I didn't want any other man to see to my wounds if not Maester Luwin. He was the one and only I could trust on these things.

Jon and Robb went to the dining hall while Jory led me to my bedchamber and brought me my meal himself. "You would have never missed that blow, little wolf," he too started calling me that way after the incident with the black brother and the wildlings, "what happened?" I was still eating the stew but answered with my mouth full anyway. Mother or the Septa were not there to remind me about my manners. "I was just distracted," the thought of Theon made me blush a little, a detail that Jory didn't miss. "Distracted, ehh?" He laughed, more to himself and then continued, "the Dornish?"

"I want to stay here with all of you, I don't wanna go South. Nobody comes back from the South." The man was not expecting the conversation to turn so… _dark_ but he acted in consequence. Jory Cassel was a good man. Good and pleasant. He came nearer and spoke again. "That day you're thinking of is still far away, my little lady. You'd do well not to dwell in those sorts of dreams too much," he seemed to have finish talking but then added, "And don't be afraid, the wolf is a difficult animal to defeat, you'll shine in Dorne." Not long after he left the room with a smile. I returned the gesture. _I'll miss him too,_ was all I could think of. I was going to try to sleep when I heard some people talking on the yard. Well, more like, kind of screaming. I went straight to the window, which was half closed, and peered between the window and its frame. The man I had first heard was Ser Rodrik. He was annoyed with the figure next to him. It was not yet very dark so after looking thoroughly for a while I could clearly distinguish Theon Greyjoy. After the quarrel, Ser Rodrik let the boy alone. Theon went to the closest door, most surely going to the hall for dinner. I had little time if I wanted to reach him before he got to the hall. But as it happens I didn't need to run so quickly, since the boy was heading to his bedchamber and I encountered him in the middle of the stairs.

"Lyanna…," he was shocked as much as I was. An intense pain swamped all my body, my head aching like seven hells. The dizziness didn't help at all but I tried to stay as straight as possible. The boy continued, puzzled, "what are you doing here?"

"I…I wanted to talk to you."

"About?" He was dry, not willing to speak more than needed.

"Why are you trying to avoid me?" The mention of that matter took him aback. He didn't want to talk about it.

"None of your business, miss Nosy."

"It _is_ my business. Why don't you wanna talk to me? I haven't done anything bad!" He was going to continue his way but I got in the middle. Of course I was no obstacle for him, taller and stronger as he was and less at my current state, but he stopped anyway. We looked straight at each other and I saw him… _different_? His hair was messier than ever, his clothes too. Paying a closer attention he had some red stain on one of his cheeks and with my dizziness slightly gone now, I could smell some kind of perfume. "Is that why Ser Rodrik was yelling at you before?" I was pointing at his cheeks. "Again, none of your business, miss Nosy." Lyanna knew that outside the castle there were some single women who were all smiles and charms, especially to men. I had never thought much about them but now I hated them. "You were with some of those wenches, weren't you?" That cocky smile. Again. Idiot! "Jealous, Stark?" I was red with fury and embarrassment, "Jealous? How can _I_ be jealous of a whore? I'm a lady!"

"But you are, you are 'cause I'm not under your sheets," he started laughing loudly. How dare he say such a comment! It was more than cheeky, it was… it was _insolent_! I slapped him as hard as I could. At first his face showed pain, but after a few seconds he started grinning. I almost ran to my bedroom, furious and dead serious. I was angry with everyone, with the whole world: the Martells, Greyjoy, the stupid wenches of Winterfell, with my own family and with myself for being so stupid. _How can I like him? He's, he's…_ My head hurt so bad and so did my hand but I didn't want to tell anyone. I wanted the day to end, I wanted to fall asleep and forget about everything.

 _Wolves, the Sun, the sound of swords, the distant mountains of Dorne, a beating heart…_

 **Hi everyone! Sorry for not posting in a while but I've been pretty busy! From now on I'll try to post at least once a week. Hope you like the chapter**


	9. The Tale of the Wolf and the Sun

**Chapter IX**

The day started with Septa Mordane waking me up way too early. She said we had many things to do and little time to accomplish everything on time. "I can't even see the light coming from my window, Septa." The woman just ignored my comment and reproached, "A lady must always be prepared for unexpected events." I was asking myself what she considered to be _an unexpected event_ while bathing. I don't know what could fall in that category, but she coming to my chamber at that time of the morning was certainly one of those.

After bathing I put on my sunset orange dress, which I had finished just recently. It was made of silk so it was not going to be useful for keeping me warm. Now in my bedchamber it was okay, later I'd have to use some of my heavy furs if I didn't want to freeze in front of the Dornish people.

"You look so beautiful, Lyanna. You made such a perfect dress…" Septa Mordane was with me, both looking at myself in the mirror. "You chose well the colour, it makes your eyes stand out, sweet lady. Here, don't forget your direwolf necklace."

"I could never forget it," I replied, smiling. And while looking at my reflection as if I had woken from a dream I realized that soon I would be meeting my future husband and sooner than later I would be already in Dorne. That frightened me and I wished the savage wolf inside me could rebel and run away from all this before it was too late. But this was no ordinary _fight_ against Mother or Septa. I could escape from stitching or any other thing a lady must do. But how could I escape this situation? I could try to run away yes, but being lonely in the woods was not the perfect plan and if I stayed the wedding was the _only_ plan. All would be done as it should, my opinion didn't matter.

Everything went perfect and indeed I hadn't much to do, just help my Lady Mother in supervising that everything was as it should be for the arrival of the Dornish, imminent with every passing minute. But as it turned out, that _unexpected event_ came in the form of another little wolf called Arya Stark. She was playing swords with a stable boy, wearing her favourite blue dress, one that she would most surely never wear again as she had drag the dirt with her every time she fell to the ground. Mother was heading her way, anger already in her eyes when I stopped her. "Mother, let me. If you tell her off it would be much worse. She will listen to me." Mother looked straight to my eyes for some seconds that passed like minutes. After that she decided I was right and so she turned again to her patrol, to assure everything was as it should be.

"Arya!," I started calling, "Arya, c'mon we have to keep moving, the Martells are coming, you have to get ready." She and the boy stopped for a moment to look at me. Arya was startled to see me and I was surprised to see that expression in her eyes. Then she pointed at me with her wooden sword, "Who are you and what have you done with my sister Lyanna?," there was some mockery in her tone. "What are talking about, little Arya?," I replied, laughing. "You look more like Sansa! I thought you didn't want to be a lady!" I sighed. There was nothing in this world I could say to make her understand. I had no choice but I felt as if I was abandoning her with each passing day. "That's the trick Arya, you can be both, you can be a warrior and still wear your silk dresses and be called 'Lady'," I finally told her with the best of my smiles. Arya had always listened to me because in me, she saw what she wanted to become, what she already was, anyway. She thought of me as a mighty warrior, as a heroine. I wasn't supposed to turn myself into a lady. But I had to marry and with that came the names of 'Lady' and in this case 'princess of Dorne'. I had always acted like Arya: disobedient, not lady-like. But that ended the day of my 13th Name Day. I needed to start acting as expected. Everyone noticed my change, Arya better than anyone else. Mother did thank her gods for awakening my senses. The rest of Winterfell didn't. Still, when alone with my siblings, I tried to remain as I always had been.

"And don't you remember? I made you a special dress for today. Don't you wanna wear it?," Arya finally smiled. She told me how she wanted the dress and I did as she asked me. Her favourite thing was the grey direwolf on the chest part. "C'mon, let's go, little wolf!" But as it happens, Septa Mordane was more than right about those unexpected events and we encounter another one in the way to our bedchambers…

"Bran, come on! Come here! Brandon!," I shouted when I saw our little brother climbing the walls of Winterfell. Brandon was sweet and gentle, but when he was up there, up in the highest parts of the castle, he seemed to transform into another person completely. At last he seemed to hear me and looked back. "Bran, quickly, come here! You need to get properly dressed!"

"Wait, if the Dornish are near I might see them from the top of the castle!,"the boy said grinning.

"What? No! Bran, one of these days you're going to fall and…"

"No, I'm not!" He continued his way up and when he reached the top he started screaming: "They're near! I can hear them, I can see fire too!" Cook fires maybe. Or maybe they needed to heat up a bit. Even now, the North would be freezing to southerners.

"Thank you, Bran, now come, you'll climb all you want later!"

"Yes, c'mon, Bran, if I have to dress properly, so do you!," Arya shouted too. The boy came down, quite deft in his movements and the three of us went running to our chambers. Once there I left Arya on her room to dress and went with Bran to help him. When he was ready, I combed and style Arya's hair with the typical northerner braids, the same hairstyle I was wearing, the very same style Sansa would most surely wear.

"Great, now let's go. The last one who reaches the yard, will be a little coward! 3-2-1, GO!" The three of us went running down the stairs and didn't stop until we were in the yard, where all Winterfell was already prepared: our siblings and parents, in the front line, the principal service and Jon just behind them.

"For the sake of… The Martells are almost here, I thought you'll never appear," Mother said. Still with my breath away, I got to say some words, "I-told-you-she-will-listen-to-me-and-here-we-are," Mother smiled and caressed both Bran's and Arya's hair. "And you all look beautiful. Now to your places." Our position on the line depended on our age, so I squeezed myself between Sansa and Robb, who was Father's and Mother's first son and heir to Winterfell. I gave him a knowing look and grab his hand. Mine was shaky now that the moment was there, almost at hand. I didn't have time to think about _this_ very moment in all day, my mind occupied in other tasks. He looked at me and smiled. It was a warm smile. Then I looked back to Jon. He also had a warmth expression especially prepared for me.

And just then, the Martells of Sunspear made their entrance in Winterfell. The knights and riders wore clothes of bright yellow, a yellow that their furs made look dull. Their skin was significantly darker than the one of Winterfell people. They looked gentle, some of them where even singing songs I have never heard before. Cheerful songs, songs that made me smile without any real reason. I dedicated a short sideways look to Sansa who was also smiling and that made me happier. Sansa and I sang night and day. Some called her little bird for her voice was splendid. Mine was much rougher and not so fit for singing but while keeping a low voice no one seemed to notice my false notes.

When the carriage stopped, two riders helped Prince Doran Nymeros Martell getting off and seated him in a wooden chair they brought on a cart. The Prince could not walk and so he was carried before us by his men. Meanwhile, his wife Mellario and his brothers, Princes Oberyn and Yisus Martell got off as well and so did Prince Doran children, namely, Princess Arianne and Princes Quentyn and Trystane. All of them shared that dark skin and all of them wore bright colours: yellow, orange, red… All but Prince Quentyn. His gown was a frost blue that went perfect with what surrounded him now. Had he commanded to make it especially for the occasion? That I didn't know, but it seemed most likely. He was surveying the front line, his gaze going from one face to the next, like asking himself who was his betrothed. Finally, our gaze met and we both blushed a little by the sudden recognition. They also formed a line in front of us and both, my Father and Prince Doran, bowed, then shook hands. After the typical salutes of host and guest, Quentyn and I started to be the focus of attention, of course.

"My lords, my ladies, this is my son, Prince Quentyn," Doran spoke loud, so everyone could hear him. He had a different accent, the exotic accent of the Dornish. Some say they sounded awkward, others that it made their voices sweet. I found it rhythmic and beautiful. The boy gave a step forward, smiling and said, "My lords, my ladies," while looking at all of us, but especially at Father and me. "This is my daughter, Lady Lyanna." I also gave a step forward, which made Quentyn and I be at hand reach. He had green eyes, beautiful dark green eyes as if they were tree leaves. Then he took my hand and kissed it. I replied by lowering my head lightly. I blushed again and felt all the stares in me. It was so embarrassing being the centre of attention when the reason weren't swords but boys and marriages. And after all, the only boys that mostly surrounded me were my brothers, stable boys and servants, all of whom had grown up with me here in the North.

Short after that just when we were heading to the Great Hall, I looked back to see all the people who were following, to see all the faces, the old and the new. What I found was a very new face glaring back at me, glaring as if waiting for me to turn around and meet his gaze. The eyes belonged to Prince Oberyn Martell. Until this very present day, no one had looked at me like that, no one. He was angry, as if his face was that of a burning sun.

 **Hi there! Well, I felt I needed to do some explanations for this chapter. First of all I apologize if the Martells in this and successive chapters have nothing to do with Martin's version but I'm only in book two of the series and since in the TV show Martells are not that central to the plot yet, I don't know much about them. I have asked some friends who did read the books so they could help me with some features but the rest I guess, will depend on my imagination. Being a fanfiction I guess that's part of the point.**

 **The second thing you might be asking yourself is why I added another Martell. Well, in this case is not so much for plot device as it happens with Lyanna (the main reason I'm writing this fanfic) but only because one of my friends loves the Martells and so I thought I should feature him as one of them. His name is "Yisus" simply because my friend's name is Jesús, a common name in Spain. So I just basically** _ **transcripted**_ **his name into English pronunciation.**

 **It would be so kind of you to leave some reviews to see what you like/hate about the fanfic! Thank you! :)**


	10. Sun and Moon

**Chapter X-Sun and Moon**

During dinner Father and Mother kept a long and apparently warm conversation with Doran and Mellario. They kept their distances but still their relationship seemed to be a good one. Jon and Robb seemed to get on well with Prince Trystane and Princess Arianne had set a good impression on my sisters, especially on Arya, who was tranquil all night. I was certain Arianne was telling her stories of fighting or any similar sort but with such delicacy that even Sansa was drawn to the conversation. Much to my surprise, Bran was talking to Princes Oberyn and Yisus in a very friendly tone, the three of them all smiles. As for me, Quentyn was an easy man to approach. He wasn't _that_ much older than me but still. Already a man grown. I asked myself if he would see me childish.

"I've heard you like to fight, is that right?" He asked at some point of our conversation. I was more than happy to be able to talk about that topic. It was much safer than courtesies and the like.

"Quite a lot. My brothers and I practice every day. It's much more interesting that being locked up sewing. I like to feel fresh air on my cheeks while sending my brothers to the ground," all this I said with a smile. Mother would have said the tone was too rude for a lady but Quentyn just laughed.

"And yet you've made this beautiful dress," he looked at me from head to toe, "I guess some are granted with more than one great talent." The Prince with all his charm made true honor to those of the stories. I certainly blushed and couldn't speak for a moment. "It's just a simple dress, nothing to do with yours. The person who made it do have to be gifted by the gods," he laughed, showing all his very white teeth.

"This? Yes, it was made carefully and thoughtfully, I thought you would like it."

"Blue will always suit the North, you made the right choice, my Prince." The conversation was fluent, but still I found it difficult talking with a man that was still a stranger. Luckily for me, nights have an end and so we went to bed.

 _The girl was…how to describe her? Beautiful for sure but she was much more than that. "The opinions I've heard couldn't be more wrong, she's such a sweet girl…," Quentyn was thinking. And yet he wished to see the little wolf inside her, that willful side his sister had told him about, something to make her different from the rest, something unique. The southern courts were full of little birds, but Winterfell was no South. He ought to find something else here. The Prince found the North queer and cold but the girl was worth all the trip from the South. Besides, his siblings seemed to get along with the other Stark children. North and South together. It seemed like a good idea to him._

In the morning I went to the godswood for no particular reason but for finding a peaceful moment before all the castle woke up. I was talking to the godswood when a well-known voice asked:

"How do you pray to a tree? I've always wondered, doesn't it feel cold not to have a direct reply?" I looked back to meet Quentyn's eyes and then back at the heart tree, its sap running out from mouth and eyes. "It does sometimes but I feel the old gods all over Winterfell. They are in the cold air, in this very little pond, in the sound of the leaves rustling…The birds carry their words and spread them," I explained while softly touching the tree's bark.

"In Sunspear there are three weirdwoods in the Water Gardens but they are apart and no one pays attention to them," he said it in a sad tone, his dark green eyes suddenly lighter. "One will soon," we both smiled. "But, how did you find the godswood? Did you get lost, my Prince?" The man laughed and nodded faintly. "I have to admit I did."

"My brothers might be already playing at the yard, you may want to join. Come." I led him out of the godswood. "I must say the blue suits you better, Lady Lyanna." Quentyn was again all charms and had he been another person I might have thought he was just playing his part. But he was a true Prince like the ones in the songs, the ones Sansa yearned for. Still I found it amusing at times. Mother and Septa kept saying that if I behaved as a boy nobody would set their eyes on me and yet Prince Quentyn did not care about it. He loved _me_ , not the woman they wanted me to be.

"Blue should suit a daughter of Winterfell as orange and yellow should a son of Sunspear." It was mere courtship yet it was true, those colors suited his olive skin perfectly.

Jon, Robb and Theon were already fighting when we reached the yard. Bran was there too, but apparently he had not been welcomed to play although Trystane had.

Arya emerged behind Bran's back scaring him. Instead of crying he turned around and went after her. I was looking at those two little pups running after each other when another voice interrupted my happy thoughts: "I heard you were good with the sword, my lady." The man's voice belonged to no other than Oberyn Martell. All my face contracted in fear. Each time that man put his eyes on me I felt a chill. There was something in the way he looked at me…sometimes it was resent, other times pure hate, others it seemed just curiosity. The Red Viper they called him in Dorne. I didn't want to know why. "And I am, but I am afraid I'm not wearing the suitable dress, my Lord." I pointed to my skirts. A poor excuse yet true. Men didn't wear them for a reason.

"True, yet a warrior should be prepared any time, don't you think, my lady?"

"Are you challenging me, my Lord?" Oberyn snorted.

"Quite daring for a Stark. But no, what kind of guest would I be if I fought with my host?" I was going to reply, angry that he was playing with me when Arya shouted from behind: "LYANNA, DUCK!" I turned around just to see _something_ coming in my direction. Of course I didn't have enough time to be out of its way so it splashed on my face. Snow. Dirty snow all around my face and mouth. The impact hurt quite a lot and I could feel my face burning. "Arya, what are _you_ doing?" She was lucky it was not Sansa or she would have been dead by now. "I'm sorry, it's Bran's fault!" But Bran had something to say about that too: "No, it's not!" Theon was laughing out loud and Jon and Robb were trying to do all they could not to burst in laughter. Oberyn passed by and whispered that a good warrior should also have good reflexes. _Yes, like if you would have seen that coming._ Definitely Doran or Yisus hadn't been like Arya or he would know. Reflexes to me…


	11. Dreams of Snow and Dust

**Chapter XI**

The Dornishmen stayed a week at Winterfell, a very stressful week, especially for mother, Maester Luwin and Septa Mordane. This very last morning, after breaking our fast, Prince Quentyn led me to the godswood.

"Winterfell is impressive. In more than one way. I hope you like Sunspear as much," said my Prince.

"I'm sure I will. I'm eager to see the Water Gardens. That and the sea."

"Those you'll see as often as you like, my lady." He sat near the pond, just underneath the heart tree.

"Now tell me, my lord, why did you take me to the godswood?" I sat just beside him, waiting for an answer. He smiled and looked away. "Apparently in the North everything that has some great importance should be done at the godswood, so here you shall listen my promise," he took my hands on his and looked me straight to the eyes. "Our fathers made the arrangement but _I_ am your husband-to-be and so _I_ promise I will take care of you, I will love you until the day I die and I promise to fulfill as many of your desires as I can." Then, he kissed my hands, never taking his eyes off me. _How should I answer to that? Saying that I will take care of him too? That I would always love him?_ Nonetheless my first reaction was a hug. A childish response maybe but an answer still. "I will take care of you too my lord and keep you with both of your feet on the ground." "What?" he replied laughing. "I heard you're quite a dreamer." He seemed to like the answer, but he noticed the lack of _love_ in my promise.

It was weird having to say goodbye to the man that in three years would be my husband. The week had gone fast and I felt… _sad_ for him to go so quickly. That feeling certainly caught me off-guard. Didn't I have to hate him? Didn't I have to hate Dorne? I spent all the morning confused and it only got worse when the moment to make our farewells came. The Prince kissed my hand again and when he was there, so near me I whispered _I'll miss you_ as I wanted nobody else to here. Quentyn was certainly pleased with that: I was sure he didn't expect such a reaction from me.

When the Dornishmen left Winterfell, the castle breathed. And so did I.

The rest of the day was just any other day: I went sewing with Sansa and Arya but just enough time to appease mother. Then I managed to escape with Arya to the yard and practice a little bit with the sword with the boys. Arya could barely hold the grip of the sword, but she was little still and if trained properly, she showed promise already. But really what I was looking forward to was the night when Old Nan would tell us all sorts of magical stories.

Today the chosen place was my bedchamber. Arya and Sansa were the first to appear and not to my surprise, they were already quarrelling.

"What happens?" I had almost have to shout at them.

"Sansa is stupid!" cried Arya.

"I'm not stupid! It is you, you savage!"

"Girls! Stop it! Sansa! Arya! Tell me what it is!"

"I was just telling her how…," started Sansa, but Arya cut her in the middle of the sentence.

"She was just telling how _beautiful_ that lord was or that other. And how perfect it would be if father found a lord for her soon. I hope he had married Quentyn with her and not _you_." Arya sat on the floor, near the hearth while Sansa went to just the opposite place. I was near the window, looking at both. "Arya, that's not a reason to call her _stupid_ , she just…," she cut my sentence too.

"She only talks about boys and those stupid songs about knights and maids… _it is_ silly."

"You call it _stupid_ because you're such a brute you don't understand anything but blows and rudeness!"

"Girls, stop this. You two like quite opposite things but that doesn't mean…," now it was Sansa's turn to cut my words. "She is supposed to be a _lady_ , she should learn her courtesies!"

"Ok, then hate each other all you like but in _silence_. Bran has been waiting for Old Nan's stories all week and you don't want to spoil this night to him with such follies." I felt bad the minute I said those words but it was true. Their quarrel was the same as always and they never seemed to try to understand each other. Maybe one day they would. The hard way, perhaps. _And maybe it is that I'm becoming truly a lady_ , I thought.

Old Nan and her stories came and go. Today it was all about wargs and giants and the children of the forest. _Magic_. Sometimes I asked myself if Old Nan believed in such things. It was that or that she had a true vocation for telling stories. Robb had to carry Bran to his bed afterwards. Bran, who was ever the most enthusiast with all these tales. He did believe they were true, he did with all his heart.

That very same night I was in one of Old Nan stories, very scary, very near… The forest was white, decorated with snow all around. All was tranquil except for… a direwolf, a direwolf that was near enough for me to hear its snarling. I turned in my heels to exit the forest clearing and tried to run away from the sound but I couldn't. I started running faster and faster, afraid of it, but I could still hear the direwolf loud and clear. I began to gasp trying so hard to breathe, breathe a cold and icy air. Snow was falling harder now, forming a storm thanks to the gusts of wind. I thought I was lost but I continued running as much as I could. _Why do you run, stupid girl, it's a direwolf,_ a direwolf, a voice said. But I couldn't stop, not now.

It was too late when I finally saw the slope…it was too late…and so I fell. I thought I would die, nobody could survive a fall from that height. But before I could even see the earth beneath me I realized there was no snarling, there was no snow…but there was wind and heat and dust.

I snapped my eyes open and looked all around me. I was in my room, a room I had never left. I gasped for air, afraid, my skin turned into gooseflesh. And through the open window, lost in the distant forest, a direwolf howled to the moon. I looked at the pale, cold night.

 _Winter is coming, but for whom?_

 **And so, before I finish the chapter, just a comment: I've received bad reviews saying how Lyanna and Arya have exactly the same character and so why I haven't decided to write about Arya but changing her story line. I completely see what you mean and in the first chapters Lyanna and Arya** _ **are**_ **the same. Maybe I wrote it too subtle or I failed to prove it at all, but in this last chapters Lyanna is trying her best with courtesies and the like. Can you imagine Arya doing something like that? Because I don't. When Ned told Arya about her future ruling another lord's castle Arya replied "That's not me". And for how her story line has developed, I don't think she will ever be a 'lady' the way Sansa or Catelyn are. As for Lyanna, you'll see what I mean if you keep reading. In any case, thanks** **.**

 **And last but not least, I'll tell you the ages of the Stark children so far, just in case you want to keep track of them: Robb, Jon and Lyanna are 13; Sansa is 10; Arya is 8; Brandon is 6 and Rickon 2.**


	12. The Crow

**Chapter XII-The crow**

"Is this necessary? My wedding is still very far away." Septa Mordane and mother stood close while my measures for the wedding gown were taken. In any case, neither of them answered.

"It will be a very beautiful dress, my lady. Your prince won't surely forget that night," said the seamstress not caring about my question at all. "Any preference of colour, my lady?" I looked myself on the mirror: the blue eyes and the auburn hair of the Tullys but the stern stare of the Starks. _My dress should be the colour of the Starks. But grey is dull for a wedding. Although there is another._

"White." The perfect colour for a wedding. The perfect colour for a Stark.

"Oh yes, the best choice for a wedding," whispered the seamstress merrily.

Through the open window I could hear my brothers training with Ser Rodrik. I wasn't feeling like practicing with the sword today, but fresh air would feel great. "How much longer must I wait Nayibe?"

"Lyanna-!"

"Oh, that's okay, Septa. I'm almost finished, sweet child." The woman had a beautiful smile despite all her wrinkles. It took her only a few minutes more and then she was done.

Before mother could say anything I went running down the stairs but it seemed that the fun in the yard had also come to an end. Robb was helping Arya with the bow which was still too big for her. Jon and Bran were nowhere to be seen and Sansa would most surely be sewing alongside Jeyne upstairs.

I was going to join Robb and Arya when suddenly I heard…something? I wasn't sure maybe it was the wind but... The noise seemed to have come from the entrance to the crypts. When I looked on that direction all I saw was a crow perched on one of the stone direwolves. When I finally got closer the crow took flight and entered the crypts, the door somehow wide opened. I took one of the torches and entered. I could still hear the crow flapping its wings. The sound didn't stop when I got to the first floor. _Where is the bird going?_ I followed him, now tremendously curious. I got further than any time before. Indeed, the crow entered the room where the Kings of Winter rested in peace. We were so deep into the earth that no sound from the outside could reach here. Thanks to Winterfell's hot springs, the floor was warm, pretty warm indeed. I went by every face in the hall: all were looking stern with their direwolves at their feet. It was very much a solemn environment. I had to remember that these were all my kin and even if they could come back to life they wouldn't hurt me. _I'm a Stark of Winterfell just like them._

After minutes that seemed like hours I reached the end of the hall, were the very first Stark laid with sword and direwolf. Or well, there should have been a sword once. Now everything that remained was red dust. Perched on the head of the direwolf was the crow, staring at me. _Staring_.

 _Father said that the iron swords prevented the ghosts of the old kings and lords from running free. What has happened to this one then?_

I was still looking at my ancestor's face when suddenly cold air filled the room and the fire from my torch extinguished. I heard the crow take flight and then some words that came from nowhere: _ice_ – and after a pause – _fire_. I felt cold fingers grasping me and then I started to run as fast as I could. I don't know how I found the door in that complete darkness but I didn't stop to cheer. I went on and on and on without even caring or daring to look back, not that I could have seen a thing. When I was almost outside again I noticed that someone had closed the door for all I could see was some day-light coming from slits. I tried to open the door but I couldn't. And then… I turned back. _It was a direwolf, I'm sure it was, I heard it. But it's not here. Stupid girl, how could it be possible?_ Still afraid I started to punch the door. Someone had to hear me. Someone. Not long after some male voices approached. One intrigued, another making jests. It took a while but they were able to open the door.

"Look who's here." Of course it was Theon.

"Lyanna-"

"The door was opened when I entered! It weren't you who closed it, were you?" I raised a guilty finger at the three of them.

"Of course not," said Jon. "And what were you doing down there, anyway?"

"I-I," I felt pretty stupid now. "I saw a crow near the entrance. When I got closer it took flight and went down the crypts. It went to the very end where the first King of Winter is buried. And there…" They would think I was being childish but I had to tell them. Of course Robb and Theon went away laughing but Jon stayed. "THAT'S WHAT I HEARD!"

"You were afraid, maybe you imagined it-"

"I DIDN'T! Why would I hear "ice" and "fire" down there, Jon? And the crow, the crow took flight the moment my torch extinguished," he was going to interrupt me but I was faster, "AND NO, he was _not_ afraid. It was a crow and _it_ decided to enter in the first place."

"In any case maybe you're giving it too much thought. Come, let's practice with the sword." I didn't want to, but I went anyway.

Maybe Jon was right, maybe it was nothing. But my night was full of nightmares, anyway. I was in Winterfell but there was no one around. It was snowing heavily, all my clothes were starting to soak yet I didn't feel a thing. I was going to step forward when the snow transformed itself in a fire field. I wasn't at Winterfell anymore though. But it had to be somewhere north. A hissing sound made me look up and all I saw was three enormous dragons. Just as they were flying above myself, I could see that at least one of them was mounted by a… I could not say if it was a man or a woman but either way, their hair was platinum. _Targaryens_. Then I opened my eyes. I was in my room, warm under my bed's pelts but outside a light snow was just beginning to fall.


End file.
